Avatar Aang, the Genius of Strategic Escape
by DracoMaleficium
Summary: Season 1 Zukaang set somewhere between "The Blue Spirit" and "Bato of the Water Tribe." A silly little oneshot I needed to get out of my system. Zuko kidnaps Aang, who in turn devises a truly devious plan of escape. As it says on the tin.


**A/N**: It should disturb me that the first really explicit fic I'd written and published would be season 1 Zukaang. But somehow it doesn't, which probably makes me a bad person. Anyway, I do really like how this fic turned out, so enjoy.

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Aang wasn't entirely sure how exactly he'd gotten himself into this particular situation. Over the past few hours, for no better distraction presented itself, he tried to analyze every fleeting moment of the erratic ambush attempt and invariably came to the conclusion that it was, as far as ambush attempts went, pretty lame. It wasn't even a proper ambush, no matter what Sokka kept screaming indignantly during the fight – probably so as not to make them look like total idiots – and, truth be told, the entire fiasco was more than a little stupid. They really should have known better than to accidentally walk right into Zuko and his little band of Firebenders in a _market_, of all places, when the most intimidating and villainous thing on the Prince's mind was haggling over the price of carrots.

This of course changed the minute Zuko's eyes locked with Aang's over a vegetable stall and the skirmish which promptly ensued left quite a lot of food merchandise on fire. That was when things got blurry. Aang strained to remember exactly how and when did Zuko manage to grab him by the collar and punch him in the face, but the dull ache in his left cheek and a somewhat puffy eye were undeniable proof that this had in fact occurred. Things happened incredibly quickly after that; Aang remembered being grabbed and roughly dragged away, then came Katara's giant wave, then there was an explosion which separated them from everyone else and, long story short, the result of the lamentable mess was Aang's current predicament.

Which was dangling from the shoulder of Fire Prince Zuko, his hands and feet tied and a gag on his mouth, being hauled like a potato sack and with the Prince's now considerably looser ponytail tickling his nose occasionally as it swayed with Zuko's increasingly tired footsteps.

The gag was a new improvement. Zuko decided to apply it after the first two hours of dragging the Avatar on his shoulder, and was by that time so desperate to silence his prized captive that he used his very own red ribbon which normally served to keep his hair up for the purpose. Aang should probably feel honoured by that, or something. But it was hard to feel honoured when a piece of red material dug painfully into his mouth and prevented any kind of conversation, which had previously been the only pastime available. He should have probably seen it coming, though. That was what he got for not heeding Zuko's grunted warnings about shutting up – but really, who could blame him? It was _boring_, being carried like that through the thick, deserted forest, and at least Zuko had been fun to needle, even if angry grunts were the only response he was willing to give.

And now he had Zuko's ribbon tied around his mouth so tightly it stung and would probably leave bruises, and the Prince's hair, now held together by only a loose piece of rope and thus considerably longer, dangled right in front of his face. And he was sore. And he could no longer feel his muscles. And his stomach was starting to grumble. And _monkey feathers_, if it was boring before, now, after several hours of the silent forest trek, it had gotten even duller than Monk Hyatsu's lectures on Elemental History, which had been famous for their unfailing effectiveness to cure insomnia.

What was more, it didn't look at all like Zuko was about to stop any time soon. Grudgingly, Aang had to marvel at the guy's drive. It seemed like each step the Prince took was forced out of him by sheer tenacity alone, given that what little sustenance they both had had been consumed in the morning and, as the Avatar could see through the thick, green canopy of leaves above their heads, it was getting darker.

Aang wondered briefly if he should start getting worried. Evening seemed to be lurking right around the corner and still there was no sign of a flying bison anywhere. He had no doubt previously that Sokka and Katara were okay, but now that almost an entire day had passed since his capture and there was no visible rescue attempt on the near horizon, a small bud of fear blossomed slowly at the back of his mind. What if they, too, were captured and led somewhere by Zuko's Firebenders? This would make the entire situation slightly more difficult to deal with. Not that he was worried for himself – Zuko should be easy enough to escape once they settled somewhere to rest, _if_ the thought of rest has ever crossed the stubborn Prince's mind. But then they would be lost and scattered all around the area, and finding each other – or the place where his friends were kept – would be a bit of a nuisance.

The young Avatar still wasn't quite sure why he was being carried through the forest to begin with. The town they had fought in and left everyone else behind was not a port town, granted, so the way to Zuko's ship would have been a longer one, but still, he didn't expect the Prince's party to venture this far away from the shore simply to buy supplies. Unless they were scouring the country for rumours about _him_, Aang, which would have made a bit more sense – but only a bit. And truth be told, Aang wasn't entirely sure it was very likely. He hadn't seen Zuko since the crazy Blue Spirit incident and was slowly beginning to hope that the boy had given up.

Only now was he realizing what an insane hope _that_ was.

The point in the matter was, Aang was slowly beginning to suspect that Zuko had gotten lost.

He tried saying so, but his words came out in a muffled series of incomprehensible mumbling through the gag, so he bumped into the Prince's armoured back with his elbows instead, trying to get his attention. Zuko groaned angrily but kept moving, without turning back.

Aang nudged his back again. Zuko shifted him abruptly on his shoulder in retaliation, so that Aang's head bumped around the metal plating of the armour. Aang tried to kick him in the chest with both of his feet. Zuko hauled him more violently, causing the younger boy to hit his head again. A mutually unbeneficial relationship was in the making.

All at once, Zuko sped up. Intrigued, Aang tried to lift his head to see what the reason for this sudden burst of enthusiasm was and if they were getting there yet, but his undignified position prevented him from seeing anything up ahead beyond Zuko's shoulder, so he gave up and simply waited for further developments.

He did not have to wait long. After a few minutes, Zuko halted completely at the mouth of a small cave partly hidden behind some bushes and sent a single blast of fire inside, probably to check for possible inhabitants. Luckily, no hungry beast charged from the dark, cold entrance to disembowel them, so the Prince decided to take the risk and slowly stepped inside, then crouched and heaved Aang off his shoulder with a grunt to settle him against a rocky wall.

The Avatar watched with a small degree of interest as the Prince then started massaging his shoulder and doing some small exercises with his arms to bring back circulation, squatting beside his captive with a relieved expression on his scarred face and wiping away drops of sweat trailing from the shaved head. Zuko sent one, heated glare at Aang, thought for a moment, then stood and began to take off parts of his armour, one by one. From the looks of it, he was settling in for a longer rest in the cave and Aang found that he was grateful. Being carried around like that all day was no fun.

Judging from how tired he looked, Zuko thought so too.

It was only when the armour landed on a pile with a final clang and Zuko slumped down on the opposite side of the cave entrance that Aang's stomach grumbled again. Loudly. Fierce, golden eyes instantly flew to his face. "What?", the Avatar wanted to say, "I haven't eaten in hours and neither have you," but of course the gag in his mouth prevented him from forming any words. He shrugged instead, looking unperturbed, and indicated the general direction of Zuko's stomach to make his point. The older boy regarded him silently for a few minutes, his predatory eyes narrowed in suspicion or thought, Aang couldn't be sure, and then he glanced outside, at the silent forest now getting slowly infested by deeper and deeper shadows.

"I should get us some food," he said softly, peering into the creeping darkness. "I don't want you to die on me now that I've finally caught you."

Aang rolled his eyes, hoping to convey his exact sentiments about Zuko catching him. The Prince ignored it.

"You don't eat meat, do you?" he asked instead, looking back at the Avatar, who shook his head. "Right. That means berries. And stuff. Um…" He gave Aang another once-over, seemingly weighing his options. He sighed. "I can't very well leave you here, though. You'd just escape. No. We'll have to do without food for the time being."

Aang felt like kicking him. It wasn't like he had many options of escaping here, tied up like he was! Now Zuko was just being paranoid. Of course, Aang would have made a grab for freedom as soon as the Prince was out of sight – he could still crawl, and besides, some of the rocks around here looked sharp and would probably do nicely for cutting those ropes – but Zuko didn't have to know that. Why couldn't he just trust Aang to stay put? Spirits, what has this world come to that the captors didn't trust their captives enough to leave them alone for a while? It's all gone to the dogs during the last hundred years, Aang decided bitterly as he watched Zuko wearily, his stomach grumbling in protest of such a scandalous treatment.

After a few moments of silent rest, the Prince stirred afresh and started moving about the entrance of the cave, gathering twigs and fallen branches and dropping them in a pile between his place and Aang's. So he wanted to make a fire. Good, at least they won't be hungry _and_ cold. It was good to see that the guy had _some_ basic human needs. Aang was seriously beginning to doubt that.

It _was_ getting cold. The clouds, grey and threatening throughout the entire day, were now a black, ominous, impenetrable mass, bringing the darkness about that much sooner and silently promising a downpour complete with lightning and thunder. Yes, a fire in those circumstances would be greatly appreciated and Zuko showed some good instincts now that he strove to collect as much dry firewood as he could before the tempest unleashed its fury upon their sheltered heads. Already the air was thick with congested heat and buzzing electricity which was waiting to be let loose upon the world. Aang could feel it. He should know.

So he'd better make his grab for freedom soon, if he wanted to make it before the storm broke out in earnest. The problem was, he was still tied and gagged, so he couldn't very well Airbend Zuko into oblivion. And if he started crawling away now, with the Firebender roaming so close and casting him suspicious glances every now and then, he wouldn't even make it past the cave entrance. And that would make Zuko angry. Well, angrier.

Resigned to his lot for the time being, Aang slumped further against the hard rock, scratching his back in the process. He'd just have to wait for a convenient moment. That was all. And if it meant spending the night in the cave with Zuko…

… Aang's thoughts flew to their epic escape, the blue, wooden mask and the press of a hard, muscled body against his…

… Well, it might turn out interesting. And it wouldn't be their first night together either, though admittedly the first for which Zuko would be fully conscious.

With one, hard strike which rippled through the heavens and tore up the sky in a zigzag of blindingly white light, the storm began. Zuko hadn't quite made it in time with the fresh armful of wood; the rain caught him mid-way back to the cave and drenched his un-armoured body immediately. Aang giggled silently at the sight, always ready to embrace amusement when it was offered, and watched wordlessly as the Firebending Prince struggled on with the soaked wood, dropped it by the entrance and sat down, scowling at the world in general.

The rain made for a nice background noise, filling a silence which would have otherwise been rather awkward. Zuko, heedless of his pathetically wet outfit, proceeded to arrange the dry firewood clumsily to create a pile big enough for a fire. Not having anything better to occupy his mind with, Aang watched.

And that was when things turned from uncomfortable and mildly irritating to downright _weird_.

It wasn't strictly that he noticed the way in which Zuko's drenched undershirt clung to his toned, muscled body. Not at first, anyway. It was more of a gradual process, really. He had been watching the Prince, noticing an odd fact here and there about the way his face darkened in concentration or how his brows – well, the one brow he still had left – furrowed, or the red, tortured scar tissue stretched all the way to the boy's ear and gave him a perpetual glower. It was in the midst of an idle speculation on how Zuko's face would look like if he were to genuinely and openly smile, that Aang's gaze slid involuntarily lower and lingered for a while on the broad, strong shoulders. Which looked very broad and strong indeed through the thin, soaked fabric, especially now that their owner was moving and arranging the wood. Before Aang could even process what he was looking at and how his brain reacted to it, his misbehaving eyes roamed on, appreciating the hard biceps, the sculpted forearms and the chiseled chest, as visible now through the wet undershirt as though Zuko had been shirtless. Spirits, the Prince was _ripped_. He couldn't be older than sixteen, too. Barely older than Sokka. And Sokka, though of course handsome in his own right, certainly didn't look like_ that_. If he had, Aang wasn't sure how he would have been able to fall asleep at night.

It was not that Aang liked boys. Not exactly. What he liked was beauty – in any form it came. He loved pretty things and was used to being surrounded by them, since – for all their shunning of earthly possessions – the monks appreciated aesthetics as much as everyone else. When he first opened his eyes after a hundred years in that iceberg, Katara's face, so lovely and enchanting with those big, blue eyes and the regular, pretty features, instantly drew him in like a charm. Back at the temple, he was encouraged in his appreciation and taught that beauty was rare enough to be embraced in its every manifestation, and he followed this lesson religiously.

Now that Aang was thinking about it and noticing stuff, Zuko's eyes were sort of beautiful too. Very golden. And intense. Burning, even. Especially now that he had lighted the fire with one jerk of his fist and the flames danced, reflected in the golden irises. Before this evening, Aang would not have considered his pursuer's face pretty – it was usually scrunched up in a grimace of fury, and anyway, whenever they met the Avatar had other, more pressing matters at hand than contemplating his attacker's good looks – but now that he had the rare opportunity to get a closer look, he was compelled to reevaluate his earlier impressions. The scar was pretty bad, true. And the permanent glower it gave to Zuko's already scowling face did not improve matters. But once one got past it, one could notice the stunning regularity of features which could be described as handsome without the slightest hesitation. And the porcelain pallor of skin. And the way the wet, black strands clung to it, emphasizing the smooth whiteness by contrast. Aang caught himself wanting to touch it and brush it away to reveal some more.

Well_. Interesting_.

Mildly disturbed by the direction his thoughts had taken, Aang wondered back to that wild, surreal night of the Blue Spirit, when he had sat until dawn by Zuko's side, waiting for him to wake up and just watching. He remembered how unlike himself the Prince had looked back then – so young, so vulnerable, so _different_. Not at all like the crazy, aggressive human fireball the Avatar was used to. There was a strange feeling of peace, of serenity even, surrounding the two of them that morning. Aang recognized it, just as he recognized the profundity of their escape. It _had_ meant something. Zuko's motives didn't matter. His actions did. And the fact that Aang had stayed by him also mattered, in a strange way that he couldn't quite grasp. Something big, something important was different between them that morning and despite the unfortunate, impulsive blast of a fireball Zuko had hurled his way, the young monk knew the other boy recognized it as well. He hadn't chased after him, for starters. That had to count for something.

And now the same boy who had fought so many times against him and whose body moved so instinctively alongside his own when his face was hidden behind painted wood, sat opposite him in a cave, a small, crackling fire blazing between them and casting lithe, erratic shadows dancing on the walls of the cave. The wetness dripping from his body was slowly evaporating in tiny puffs of steam under Aang's gaze – it took the Airbender a while to realize that Zuko was Firebending himself dry.

And _spirits_, if it wasn't sexy as hell.

Not that Aang ever used words like _sexy_ before. He never had the occasion to – the monks hardly merited the term and, for all of her obvious appeal, calling Katara that didn't seem exactly right either, probably because it would demean her somehow and bring her down from the pedestal of higher beauty Aang had placed her on since day one. But now, faced with this alluring sight and unwillingly contemplating his companion's newly-discovered, undeniable attractiveness, the Nomad decided that this was in fact _the_ perfect term to be used in such circumstances. Zuko was not beautiful, not by the standard meaning of the word. He was way too sharp and hard for that, at least for now (for the potential for beauty was there, Aang recognized it that morning in the woods in the sleeping Prince's face, and maybe it will come in time, replacing the frustrated anger). But he _was_ sexy, undeniably so, and to a disturbing extent which made Aang's throat go slightly dry.

"What are you staring at?"

Aang's gray eyes snapped up to meet angry gold and the boy smiled apologetically despite himself. "You," he said with simplicity, but the ribbon in his mouth made it sound more like "Mew." Zuko sneered.

"We will wait here until the worst of the storm passes," the Prince's low, raspy voice sounded uncharacteristically soft now that he wasn't shouting. "Maybe my men will find us sooner and we'll escort you back to my ship together, but if they don't, I can carry you the rest of the way on my own. Make no mistake about that."

Aang decided that rolling his eyes again would be a sufficient response.

There was a pause filled with the crackling of fire and the steady beat of rain. A thunder rolled somewhere not far away. And then, suddenly, without any kind of preamble:

"Don't think it changes anything."

Aang looked up again. _What?_

Zuko had drawn his knees up to his chin and circled them with his arms, staring at the fire. "Don't for a second think I will let you escape now," he said softly. "I don't care if you saved me from Zhao. I saved you first. We're even now, I don't owe you anything."

Aang kept staring, cursing the gag in his mind. His thoughts were reeling now with so much he wanted to say.

"And if you dragged me through the forest and sat by my side all this time, it was your bloody choice!" now Zuko's voice sounded stronger now and reached the volume Aang was more familiar with. "I never asked you to! So stop looking at me like I owe you, because I don't! I would have made it without you just fine!"

_No, you wouldn't_, Aang thought, watching the conflict burning behind Zuko's golden eyes_. Zhao would have killed you, Prince or no. That was treason what you did back there. And if the Fire Nation is anything like I remember, they would have had your head displayed on a spike. They don't like traitors there_.

And with this thought, another one came: _Why?_ Well, he knew why. To get the Avatar himself. But why was it so important? Zhao was Zuko's countryman. They both pursued Aang for what they believed to be the good of the Fire Nation, officially at least. Why didn't Zuko just let Zhao have him? Katara mentioned something about Zuko's honour that needed restoring and Aang understood enough of the Fire folk to know that honour was very important to them, but this alone did not seem enough to inspire such a _desperate_ move as the Blue Spirit. There must have been something else. Something even more profound, _deeper _than that. Aang just wished he knew what it was. Then maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to turn the tables.

But there wasn't much he could coerce out of the Prince, gagged like he was. He had to convince Zuko to get the damn thing off of him.

So, keeping Zuko's angry gaze locked with his own, he lifted his tied hands and pointed at the ribbon in his mouth. Zuko snorted.

"As if," he muttered. "You want me to take it out so that you can blow me right into these rocks. Not gonna happen, Avatar."

"Phmmmeath!" tried Aang imploringly, adopting his best wounded baby pigmy-puma look. Zuko was having none of it.

"No. Stop making those stupid faces at me."

"I phomithe!" mumbled Aang solemnly. "I fonth' wun away!"

Zuko regarded him for a long, stretching minute, his single brow furrowing in the trademark scowl.

"You promised me something once already," he whispered, voice dripping icicles. "You gave your word that you'd come with me if I left that village alone. Yet you tried to escape as soon as we left. How do you expect me to trust you to keep your word now?"

Seeing a flicker of hope at the end of the tunnel, Aang adjusted his face to radiate even more solemnity. "I phomithe I'll thtay thith time. 'Onetht."

"Yeah, right." Zuko looked away, out into the raging storm. He did not stir for some time and Aang was slowly beginning to lose hope. But then the Prince lifted himself heavily off the ground and circled the fire to where Aang sat, watching him warily.

"You're cold," he noticed, seeing the slight shivering of the smaller boy. Aang simply nodded. He was cold, but it was nothing he wasn't used to.

"Why didn't you move closer to the fire?"

A shrug. Aang just didn't feel like it. The cold did not bother him all that much. He was a monk, after all, and they were taught from the very beginning to disregard bodily discomforts. But maybe Zuko didn't know that.

The Prince glanced outside one more time, still towering over Aang. Then he sighed and squatted next to the Avatar, not looking him in the eyes.

"I can't have you dying of hypothermia now," he murmured. "I guess there's something I can do for you. Just – hold still."

Aang wanted to shoot him a suspicious look, but he never had the time to – as soon as the Prince made up his mind, he scooted behind Aang, lifted the smaller boy up briefly, sat down, stretched his legs in front of him, spread his thighs and dropped his captive back down in the empty space, squeezing him between his bended knees and thighs. He then circled Aang's lithe body from behind with his strong arms, pulling him flush against his chest.

Aang yelped and wriggled on instinct, trying to get away before he could even consider this new seating arrangement. Zuko held him still, restraining him with little trouble.

"Hold still!" he hissed into Aang's ear, tickling it with his hot breath. "I'm trying to do you a good turn here, you idiot!"

Well, that wasn't very polite. Aang didn't like being called an idiot. He started turning around to show Zuko exactly what he thought of his good turn, but then –

Hm.

That was actually kind of –

_Nice_.

Suddenly, Aang realized that Zuko's body was exactly as hard and firm as it looked. And it was warm. Very warm. A sort of "thick-blanket-on-a-snowy-night" warm. Maybe even "Appa's-fur" warm. Being engulfed in it like that, embraced by a pair of strong thighs and arms that felt like they could crack his spine just like that, didn't feel threatening – it felt _cozy_. Cozy and… yes, and safe. And that chest, firm and sculpted and hard, felt really nice against his back now that there were no twin blades pressed up to his throat to accompany it. Succumbing gradually to the all-round pleasantness of such a strong, delightfully warm body serving as his blanket, Aang allowed himself on instinct to relax, little by little, until his head was shamelessly resting its full weight against Zuko's strong shoulder.

Yes. It felt _very_ nice.

Well, Zuko was a Firebender. Him having a higher body temperature than average made sense. Maybe he could control it, too. Kuzon never mentioned controlling body heat via Firebending, but then again, Kuzon was not that good of a Bender, much as it pained Aang to think such a disloyal thought about his friend.

Oooh, it was getting even warmer. So Zuko _could_ control his body heat. That was definitely a trick Aang wanted to learn once he started on Firebending. It would impress Katara for sure.

"There," Zuko murmured, his words a hot puff of air against bald skin. "Now we're completely even. You watched over me while I was unconscious, I'm keeping you warm. There's no more debts. We're clear."

Aang murmured in response, shifting slightly to find a more comfortable angle against his human pillow-plus-blanket. If that thought made Zuko more comfortable, it was all right with Aang too. Just so long as Zuko didn't decide that enough was enough and move away. That would _hurt_.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched, crackled with the flames, snapped with the burning wood, sizzled with the incessant downpour and roared with the occasional thunder. It wasn't a hostile silence this time, and grew less and less tense with every second Aang passed pressed against Zuko in the Prince's arms. The Fire Nation heir was still very much on his guard – the Avatar could tell, having first-hand access to his taut muscles – but as time crawled by, he too began slowly to unwind. Aang could not see his face, but he could imagine the creases on his forehead smoothening and the glare softening into something more tame, more subdued. This could be a nice sight.

If only he could ask some questions now, Aang thought rather sadly. Perhaps here, in this cave, with the fire and the silence and the closeness, Zuko would answer at least some of them. And there were so many things Aang wanted to know about him. About this entire business. Why was he chasing him. Why did he break him out, risking his own life. Why didn't he chase him then, in the forest. Where did he get that scar. Why didn't he just go home and let other people deal with the Avatar. Why was he so desperate all the time.

But his mouth was gagged and he couldn't get those questions across, not in a way Zuko would understand. And besides, he probably wouldn't get any answers anyway. The Prince would most likely crawl right back behind his mask of fury. And move back to his end of the cave. Aang couldn't let that happen.

So he settled to simply enjoy the sensations being offered to him. He _had_ imagined what it would be like to feel this hard body so close to him, and now he could bask in the feeling all he wanted. If Zuko had gotten this crazy notion about settling debts into his head, all the better – it meant that his pride or honour or whatever would prevent him from going away. They had time. Aang could fall asleep like that, lulled by the warmth and the soft breathing behind him and the rain –

But there was the gag digging into his skin, and he was still tied and numb and sore and uncomfortable. Now that his body had gotten used to the extraordinary warmth, he began to notice his other discomforts in sharper contrast. Sure, this was a very nice position to spend the night in, but he really shouldn't forget that Zuko, for all his gorgeous body and warmth, was the enemy here. He should really focus on trying to escape…

Maybe he could get _Zuko_ to fall asleep. That way he could crawl over to the spikier rocks and rub the rope against them quietly until it snapped, and then he would be off…

Sure, the teen was paranoid about keeping his guards up and getting him to sleep would probably be a long and trying process. But Zuko was just as hungry and weary as Aang was, if not more so for all of his walking and carrying the Avatar's weight all day. Maybe it wouldn't take that much. Only a little more quiet and stillness…

And then, just like a lightning bolt sent from the heavens, the Idea struck him.

Slowly, Aang grinned through the gag.

Oooh, it was wicked. Probably downright cruel. Or even simply _wrong_. But this Idea provided a much surer way to distract Zuko enough to give Aang the opening he needed to escape and, well, it was much more _fun_ than simply waiting and hoping that the Prince would fall asleep. Easier, too – if Zuko had any human reactions in him, that is. And he was bound to react to _that_. He was _sixteen_. Any boy of sixteen would react to something like that, even insane, royal boys with an obsession to restore their honour. Otherwise, the world was seriously screwed up and Aang didn't want anything to do with it anymore.

Now the only question was whether Aang himself was comfortable with what he was increasingly convinced to try. And he already knew the answer to that question – knew even as he was watching and admiring Zuko by the fire earlier. Having the Prince so close only strengthened the impression. Yes, Aang wanted to try, and perhaps not only for the sake of escaping.

He was _curious_.

A brief thought of _What would Katara think?_ filled him with a moment's hesitation, but it quickly passed. It didn't count as betraying Katara, not in the way Aang wanted to execute it. It was simply common sense and – and – and using the enemy's weakness to his advantage, that's what it was. Really, Sokka would be proud of his cunning.

Probably.

Okay, maybe not. But it still counted as cunning and keeping a level head in a crisis. So there.

And it wasn't as if he wanted it to go… well… all the way. No way in the Spirit World was he ready for _that_. But a slight distraction, just to keep Zuko's attention – otherwise engaged – and, and – and maybe taste a little bit of that Firebender warmth, out of curiosity and nothing else – and he could probably use some practice with kissing before he approached Katara in earnest, and, well…

And, well. It was decided.

So, without further ado and promptly silencing any other voices of protest that might arise in his head, Aang moved.

It was a deliciously strategic position Zuko had placed him in, thank the spirits. When Aang moved, very deliberately and very slowly, pretending to innocently change his position to a more comfortable one, he brushed right against the Prince's crotch. He could feel the loincloth beneath Zuko's trousers and sat just so that his behind was pressed up against it, hard. And then he shifted again, careful to rub as hard as he could while still seeming innocent and oblivious. A shadow of excited shivers went through him as he did it again, and he fought back a giggle when he felt Zuko's body finally tense and instinctively respond, moving slightly against him, _with him_.

_Ah-ha. Pigbull's eye_. So the Prince was a true teenage boy after all.

He waited for a split of second before he repeated his movement, drawing it out for as long as he could and pressing his hardest against that firm, muscled, _responsive_ body. And this time, he had finally gotten what he was aiming for – the beginning of hardness in just the right place nudged him in his tailbone.

_Gotcha_.

Never one to pass up on a chance to encourage a happy development, Aang repeated his move. This time, he was rewarded not only with the increasingly tangible proof of Zuko's arousal, but also with a soft, guttural moan, which had managed to escape the Prince's mouth before Zuko bit his lips and cut it in half.

Um. _Well._ That sounded…

… Let it suffice to say that Aang was getting affected too.

"What do you think you're doing?" demanded Zuko, his voice sounding somewhat strained now that Aang rubbed against him _again_.

_Making you feel good_, Aang wanted to say. _What does it look like I'm doing?_ But it would only come out muffled and totally un-sexy due to the blasted gag, so the young monk decided that his actions should speak for themselves. He began to rub in earnest, abandoning all pretence of innocence now that the object of his ministrations was intent on him and clearly interested.

To his credit, Zuko made a half-hearted attempt to stop him. He put his hands on Aang's shoulders to still him by force, for starters, and moved away from him until he was pressed against the wall of the cave. But Aang, not to be deterred, simply followed him there, wiggling on his backside, and the only effect Zuko's hands on his shoulders had was to minimize the friction, and that seemed to have frustrated Zuko even more.

Aang felt like rolling his eyes again. _Make up your mind already_, he wanted to scream, but really, this entire situation was sort of amusing. Zuko fighting a losing battle against his own body may have just been the most hilarious thing Aang had witnessed in months. And for all of the teen's protests and attempts to stop Aang from moving, he never once simply stoop up and crawled away. Maybe his brain was too cottony now to come up with this simplest option of rescue. Or maybe – and that was the more likely option here – he simply didn't want the friction to stop but was too stubborn to admit it.

Whatever it was, Aang's plan was working. The Avatar never stopped moving against his captor's body and soon, willingly or not, Zuko was moving with him, his arousal bigger and harder by the second – _ouch_, he really was big – and feeling it pressing up against him, Aang was getting harder too because _monkeyfeathersthatwassohot_, and the noises escaping from Zuko's mouth made Aang's cheeks burn, and the hands on his shoulders gripped and started guiding instead of stilling, and now Zuko's breath was coming out in ragged puffs and they had found a rhythm somehow, and _spirits_, if Aang didn't get any friction of his own soon he would go _crazy_ –

And suddenly there it was. As if to answer his whimpered prayer, a warm, strong hand landed on his crotch, sought out the hardness there and _squeezed_. Aang saw stars.

Zuko's left hand was gone from his shoulder now, too, and snaked around his waist to pull him even closer against the other boy, their hips never once faltering; whereas his right suddenly became the centre of Aang's world as it kept on squeezing, hesitantly at first, slightly unsure, before it traveled down and _gripped_.

Aang would have howled, were it not for the gag. As it was, the noise which escaped him was somewhere between a moan and a whimper and pretty embarrassing, really, not that he cared. Zuko was clearly growing bolder, his hand going up and down Aang's straining erection, beginning to pump him at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Is that what you want, Avatar?" came the Prince's whisper, low and husky and warm, right in Aang's ear. It sent a jolt of electricity straight into his groin. "I heard you monks were a shameless lot. I guess you _would_ start young. Do you want me to continue?"

Yes, yes, spirits, _yes_ he wanted Zuko to continue so bad, he even went as far as to say so, though of course what came out was a series of undignified yelps. Aang could practically hear Zuko smirk, and while it was sexy as hell, it was also a bad sign. The Prince was slowly coming on top of the game and gaining control, and Aang couldn't have that. It would be easy – oh, so easy – to melt right then and there into Zuko's intoxicating embrace and succumb to pleasure, but he had to stay cool and calculating. He might miss an opening otherwise. So he tried not to focus so much on the hand moving up and down his length through the fabric, though _spirits_, it was so hard, and Zuko never stopped moving –

Inspired by a sudden urge, Aang gathered his strength, summoned as much air as he could with the tips of his fingers and used it to haul himself up and back down, turned so that he was now kneeling, facing Zuko. The Prince, his golden eyes misted over by arousal and his unscarred cheek glowing red – why, wasn't_ that_ an attractive image – watched him, temporarily struck dumb, as Aang grinned at him wickedly and pressed both of their erections together, rubbing.

Zuko moaned, his eyes fluttering closed. And if that wasn't the sexiest image Aang had ever seen, he would eat Appa's shed fur.

But then Zuko opened his eyes again and they looked at each other. Suddenly, this whole affair turned into something much more personal.

Time stopped. The thunder roared in the distance, splitting the sky. And the two boys were still, watching each other through the haze of lust, looking into each other's eyes and marveling at their own desire mirrored in the other. And as they watched, they slowly remembered.

For a moment, Aang was sure Zuko would give up and leave. It felt like it. When he watched the fire behind those golden eyes burn and smother, alighting them again with the familiar passion, the Avatar was sure he would be shoved away, perhaps even punched for his efforts.

But when the fire in Zuko finally roared in time with the storm, it was in a different direction altogether.

Suddenly, the Prince made a grab for Aang's legs, bringing them to the front with the speed of a striking viper. And just like that, seconds later, the rope was gone, burnt through clean, falling to the ground, and Zuko was pulling Aang towards him, flush against his own chest again, so that the younger boy was straddling him, golden eyes never once leaving gray. This new position was much more comfortable and Aang murmured contentedly, resuming his enthusiastic rubbing against Zuko's sizeable erection. Oh _yeah_, that felt _so much_ better. The fact that his legs were free now was just an added bonus at the moment.

As he watched Zuko panting and thrusting up against him, his lips slightly parted, Aang suddenly felt a desperate need to kiss the Firebender. Perhaps that was a dangerous idea – every now and then, with a heavier breath, sparks danced in Zuko's half-open mouth. Perhaps he could breathe fire. But the prospect of risk only made the idea all the more thrilling. Stupid gag.

He leaned in, brushing his gagged lips against Zuko's to show what he wanted, and the Prince understood; a hand travelled to the back of his bald head, cradled it for a bit, and then the fingers moved to burn clear through the ribbon. The sweet relief of having his facial muscles manageable again nearly caused Aang to laugh out loud, but there were more pressing matters to attend to at this very moment; Zuko's warm, warm hands travelled greedily across his back, exploring, their hips resuming their previous rhythm, and Aang had some kissing to do.

Once he got rid of the excess saliva which had gathered in his mouth and spat the hated ribbon out, Aang's lips were immediately on Zuko's. Okay, so he was a bit too eager – their teeth crashed together, lips bumping into each other clumsily. It wasn't his fault that he had no experience with kissing. Plus, by the looks of it, neither did Zuko. Their lips fumbled for a bit, trying gingerly to adjust to each other after the first attempt, and in the process, Aang murmured:

"How come you can't kiss?"

He didn't mean for it to come out quite this accusatory, but Zuko still managed to take it as a blow to his masculine pride; he pulled away, glaring at Aang as though the monk was the one to burn half of his face off.

"What do you mean I can't kiss? I can kiss perfectly well!" he snarled. "It was you who had no idea what to do!"

_Uh-oh_. Angry Zuko. Bad. Time to placate the snarling moose-lion.

"You're right, you're right, you're a great kisser and I screwed up!" assured him Aang quickly. "Now how about some more practice so you can show me what to do?"

"_Fine_," grumbled Zuko as though he was granting Aang some great favour, and leaned in to brush their lips together again, more tentatively this time.

Aang opened his lips to invite him and – _yes_, there was that faint taste of smoke and sparks. _Wow_. It tasted… sweet, almost like fruit. And there was chi swirling in Zuko's mouth with his breath, Aang could feel its frantic pull. It tasted sweet, too. And a little metallic. Aang wanted some more.

Not pausing to think about it, he grabbed the collar of Zuko's loose tunic to bring the boy closer to him and opened his mouth even wider, using the leverage of his own lips to part Zuko's mouth fully open. Spirits, it tasted delicious. Aang decided he loved kissing Firebenders. And when Zuko finally caught on to what he was doing, then moved his own mouth aggressively in response…

_WOW_.

Aang wasn't entirely sure whose tongue darted out first, but it didn't matter, because it did and suddenly the kissing was brought to a whole new level entirely. In the frenzy of tasting and lapping and just _feeling_, they had forgotten about moving their hips. When Aang realized it, he decided to remedy the situation and rolled in Zuko's lap, hard and slow enough to make the other boy gasp in mid-kiss. It all went downhill from there.

Neither of them lasted much longer. Both virgins to the best of Aang's knowledge – and there was no way Zuko was not a virgin before this, really, the way he reacted – they needed very little stimulus indeed to come gasping against each other, lips brushing and bodies pressed up flush against each other.

The image of Zuko's shuddering face taken over by orgasm as he pulled back and _breathed out a tiny flame_, just like that, was a picture Aang was sure he would wank to for – probably for the rest of his life.

Somewhere in the midst of his own release a thought occurred to him that, hey, wasn't he supposed to be escaping here? But that wasn't important for now. His legs were free and the gag was gone – he could escape any minute now, as long as he didn't wait for Zuko to collect his wits entirely. For now, he could just lay his head on Zuko's shoulder, like that, and inhale his scent, and simply stay like that and _feel _as the sweet throbbing in his crotch grew gradually dimmer.

Zuko embraced him. It was probably pure instinct, but there it was – strong, muscular arms cradled the Avatar's smaller frame in an embrace which was not forceful, but rather loose and quite tender, and soon the Firebender's head was buried in the crook of Aang's neck and shoulder.

Neither of them moved. Neither wanted to. Aang was slowly beginning to think that perhaps they could just stay like that until morning, Zuko making no move to tie his legs back up – making no move at all, in fact, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest – but the spirits clearly had other plans for them.

"Sir! Prince Zuko! Are you there?"

"Look, there's a light. It may be him."

"We should check it. You go first."

"Me? He spotted it first!"

"Just go and check the damn cave already."

Zuko froze. Reluctantly, Aang chose it as his cue to act.

"We should do that again some time," he whispered into Zuko's healthy ear with every bit of the tenderness he felt at that moment towards the Prince, which was quite a lot; and before Zuko could do anything stupid, like grab him, Aang leapt to his feet and darted away, past the bewildered Firebenders.

There were no shouts of pursuit, but he did hear a furious roar split the forest air with a force which rivaled the thunder's.

::::::::

"Aang? What is that?" asked Katara, indicating the piece of red ribbon with a singed end the Airbender was clutching to himself as he settled against Appa to sleep.

"Oh, that?" Aang smiled sleepily, looking at the ribbon. "Nothing. Just some souvenir I picked up."

"Okay then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Katara."

He was standing at the Prince's door at the Western Air Temple, waiting for the night-time noises to settle. He was smiling lightly to himself. His fingers toyed idly with a red piece of material he had been holding behind his back.

When the light behind the door died down, Aang stepped closer and quietly stole into the dark room.

Now that Zuko had joined them, it was time to give him his ribbon back.


End file.
